Magic Makes the Heart Grow Fonder-If You're Insan
by Aurorarose
Summary: Fourth in the Orystinna series. Xander and Salamander devise a way to bring Buffy back.


Dweomer Makes the Heart Grow Fonder—If You're Insane

Dweomer Makes the Heart Grow Fonder—If You're Insane 

**By: Aurorarose13**

** **

"I do not give a damn about the lingo, Salamander!" Xander raged, quaking with his own fury. Here, Buffy had just beat his sorry ass off the stage and left him sprawled in the crowd to comfort her shaken master. How could this have happened? It wasn't fair! This kind of crap was regular for Xander Harris in Sunnydale, but he had assumed he had at least escaped that fate in another world. 'That's the problem, son. Assume makes an ass out of you and me,' his father had once told him. "And what the hell is 'ensorcelled' anyway?"

The wizard laughed despite the grim view of things. His way of making light of his surroundings even in the most humorless situations was almost infuriating. "Basically, it means this Melethinain the Majestic has hired someone to take control of your Buffy's mind and aura, forcing her to believe in and serve Mel."

"So he has… uh… washed her brain?" the Slayerette asked, trying to figure out a way to get his point across. It was obvious he had failed, however, because Salamander simply stood there with arched eyebrows and a twisted mouth; he didn't understand the expression.

"This guy has made her believe and feel the way he wanted her to by using magic to make Buffy his slave." Xander growled viciously in his throat. The slimy bastard! He'd never liked him to begin with. Now, how was he to get Buffy back? Xander's growl turned into a whimper, and Salamander rested a hand on his shoulder. "Do not worry, you have the assistance of the best wizard in all of Bardek, probably in all of Annwn! Okay, so that is not entirely true, but I am pretty amazing. Why, one time while I was in mainland Bardek, Jill and I had to—"

Xander nearly jumped ten feet in the air. That's right! If a wizard had put this spell on Buffy, it was only logical that another wizard could take it off. "You mean you can fix Buffy?"

The air grew a little stale despite the fact that there was an electrically charged crowd of Orystinnians surrounding him. Salamander cleared his throat before answering, "This will take some finesse, dear Xander. You see, I need to find the dweomermaster that ensorcelled Buffy in the first place, and then I have to see what method he used and have him undo it. Really, it is all in the hands of the man that did this." 

"Hold on one moment here. I thought Mel was the one who did this. Why is it that he does not undo this?" the human boy questioned, stumbling horribly over his phrasing.

"Looking at this man, I can tell instantly that he has not the talent for the dweomer nor the patience."

"Not that you are any better, Salamander," Xander chided.

"What a nasty tongue you have, Xander! You cut me deeply!

"At any rate, his only choice to ensorcel Buffy was to enlist the help of dweomermaster here in Orystinna. With luck, he may have assumed that you were to ignorant to Orystinna and hired from this very city. If that is the case, then we will have a breeze finding him." With the mention of the word 'assume,' Sal's distressed companion hung his head low, already seeming to give up. "Come on, Xander! I said you are working with the best wizard in all of Bardek. It is your good fortune that you found me at all. Our Wyrds are tied, truly. Believe me when I say that I am no novice! In fact, this type of situation has happened to me once before, only on a more dramatic scale."

Xander's head shot up, his eyes wide with anger. His gaze flicked back and forth between the stage and Salamander. He shivered, not from the night chill that laced the air, but from his sheer rage. "You do not consider this dramatic?"

"Well, truly, I suppose it presents a problem."

"Problem? Problem!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, drawing even more attention to himself and Sal. "This is a travesty! You _have_ to fix this."

Salamander considered, resting his chin in his hand. Glancing up to see Buffy fire a look of hatred at Xander, the wizard quickly decided his best course of action. "It is definitely a development. Ah, by the hells, I could hail a friend here! Why, perfect!" 

Sal's excitement at his idea soothed Xander's nerves some, but not much. "If he is anything like the 'friends' we have here already, I do not want him."

"Elaeno is trustworthy, truly, and quite skilled in the dweomer arts himself. He is a native to Orystinna, so he could be a valuable asset. He is just what we need to solve this case… other than Buffy's memories of her attacker, of course." Salamander seemed to light up like a Christmas tree, his eyes aglow with a plan and his smile flashing like a lighthouse beacon. 

Already Xander was having second thoughts about this plan… But one look up at that stage, at his newfound girlfriend parading herself around like a prized tiger, and all his doubts faded. He was willing to do anything to get Buffy back even if it meant falling into this dweomer garbage. "So what do we need to do?"

The wizard, obviously ecstatic at the thought of using his precious craft, clapped his hands and motioned away from the gathering of people. "Say goodnight to your sweetheart—just for tonight—and then we can go back to my hotel and discuss this; by the black hairy ass of the lord of hell, I am not stepping one foot into the Wild Boar again!"

"You are a… a… uh, what is the word for someone who will not stay anywhere unless it is top of the line?" Sal stared at him confusedly. "It is a negative word… Help me out here, Sal!"

"Uh, nimroko?"

Xander shrugged. "Sure, yeah. That will do."

Glaring at the blonde princess on the stage, Salamander pushed Xander toward her. "Hurry up and say night night, would you? We have much work to do!" Xander tried to hesitate, but he was nearly on top of the platform again before he could stop his momentum.

He looked up to see his ex staring him down with her poisonous eyes. Even with her rage burning in those green depths, she seemed alive and beautiful. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her glorious face. Buffy grimaced at Xander, as though the thought of him should be accompanied with the word disease. He reached for her hand to kiss it goodnight. "You have to pay. Three silvers please," she spat, turning over her hand to accept the money.

"I only have one," Xander admitted, looking pitifully at her. She frowned deeply, as though she had expected no less. But, friend that he seemed to be, Salamander stepped up from behind and offered Xander two more. "Check that. Here you go. And one kiss please." He held out the change to Buffy.

Hand still cupped, she drew it back, slapping him cruelly across the face. A fierce pop exploded through the chill air. "Not for all the silver in the world. Let me know when he drops dead," Buffy snarled to Sal and stampeded angrily off stage. Mel was the only one left, and there he stood, hands firmly on hips and triumphant smirk across his cheeks. Soon, he, too, followed Buffy the Barbarian Princess of the North, his gem, his love and his slave.

Standing completely still, crimson blotch streaking under his left eye, Xander remained. The throbbing welt puffed angrily, and it was so pronounced that Salamander suggested he get it examined by someone called a chirugeon. Xander was too lost and too deaf to pay attention. 

Around him and at his feet lay the thousand fractures of his broken heart. Buffy had left him standing branded and alone in this foreign world that Salamander had once mentioned as Annwn. She wanted nothing to do with him. There wasn't a part of her that remembered or cared who he was. All those memories, the times, the adventures… the kisses they'd shared. Gone. In the blink of an eye. In the thump of a heartbeat. Gone forever. 

All the way back to Salamander's posh hotel—the Trylennia Inn—the dweomermaster tried to explain that Buffy's memories weren't erased, merely held hostage. Ensorcellment wasn't the end of the world—far from it. Find the man who did this, and "righting the wrong is as simple as making Bardek sweet cakes." Xander just hoped that was easy, for what the hell was a Bardek sweet cake?

@~~`~~~

"I'm trusting you, Sal," Xander said as the pair walked down Yerlin Street to meet with the man named Elaeno. "Without Buffy, I'm all alone here in this world." Then, under his breath: "In any world."

The ever-optimistic elf smiled brightly and clamped his hand on Xander's shoulder. "You need not fear with my help, Xander! I have a full-proof plan. You see, if we are going to make it through Orystinna safely, we need some sort of disguise and reason to be here. I was thinking I could continue assuming my role as the great and mysterious Krysello, Barbarian Wizard from the Far North—the man who uses no strings or powders to perform his works of magic." Xander looked at him skeptically as they passed several other tall, dark men looking equally confused. "You see, you could be my barbarian assistant, Xander, the handsome man with no past. You will draw in the women by the hundreds."

"Really? You think so?" the Slayerette chirped, mighty pleased with himself. "Wait, what am I saying? This will not work! We do not have time for all this masquerading stuff. We will lose track of Buffy and never save her."

There was that infuriating grin again. "Naught of the sort, friend of mine. We must endure this necessary evil should we elect to stay in the comfortable settings of the Trylennia. Besides, we need to fund our explorations somehow." His logic was infallible. "Anyway, I have been in almost this same situation before. How do you think I got the alias? Trust me; it will work."

"As long as we get Buffy back."

"Ah, truly, Xander, your situation aches my heart. But I promise it will work out."

Xander sighed in concession and continued trudging toward Briggin Square. Through the throngs of the morning shoppers, his eyes scanned for just one flash of golden hair. He hoped against hope that he could find Buffy, but this morning it was not meant to be. All he saw was gray and black hair crowning the heads of every single man and woman surrounding him. They loomed above him by a foot or more; it was like being in a forest of sequoias searching for a sapling. 

Finally, Briggin Square was straight ahead of them, alive and bustling with the early morning performers: mainly storytellers and jugglers; Salamander said that the magicians came out at night for the full effect. "There he is!" Salamander shouted happily, throwing his hands in the air. "Elaeno, you scoundrel!" Xander had no idea which man was Elaeno, for the Orystinnians all dressed and acted alike.

"Salamander, you chattering elf!" an extremely tall—over seven feet—Orystinnian man fired back, stepping proudly out of the mass of people and nearly running toward them. He grabbed Sal's hand, firmly gripped it and spoke in the language Xander supposed to be Deverrian, "How the hell are you? Still in the dweomer?" At the mention of the word, Xander's ears perked up.

"But of course. What else would I do with myself? You know how I am, always one for the special effects."

Elaeno nodded his head affirmatively, a knowing grin plastered to his handsome, strong facial features. His green eyes darted over to the white man standing behind him. Xander glanced nervously at the looming monster. "Who's your friend? His aura is strange."

Switching to Orystinnian, "This is Xander, and he does not speak Deverrian."

"Well, he certainly does not look elvish or dwarvish, not to mention, he is not melting in the Bardek sun, so if he is not of Deverry blood" he said, turning his head to stare Xander straight in the eyes, "where are you from?"

Xander shifted uncomfortably under the huge man's glare. "California." It was only after he had said it that he realized his folly. 

"Now, I have never heard of 'California' before. Where is that exactly?"

"To the north," he stuttered, looking to Sal for help, who offered nothing but a blank look.

"North of Cengarn?" Xander wasn't sure what to say, so he simply nodded yes. "North of Lin Serr?" Another yes. "By the hells, man, you live that deep in the mountains?"

"That I do."

"Hah! You may as well be dwarf! But how can you be so used to this heat. It is as if it does not bother you." The Slayerette merely shrugged. "I have been to Cerrgonney once, myself, in the dead of summer, and yet still I froze. I needed three layers of cloaks just to keep at a decent temperature. And you barely crack a sweat down here."

"What can I say other than it is warmer than you think." The three looked back and forth amongst each other, unsure of what to make of this development.

Elaeno seemed satisfied enough with the unusual answer, however, and decided to drop the subject. "So, Sal, would you like to let me in on this situation. When you scried me out last night—"

"Scry?" Xander interrupted.

The Great Krysello bowed his head in embarrassment. "Excuse my ignorance. I forget that you don't know all of these dweomer terms, Xander. Scrying is a way for dweomermasters to communicate over distance. You picture them in your head, and their images pop up before you, allowing you to talk sometimes. However, I could not tell Elaeno of our woeful tale because there may have been others on the etheric."

"Etheric?" he questioned exasperatedly. Before Salamander could respond, Xander shook his head. "Nevermind, I do not want to know."

"Simply put, we could have been spied upon. I prefer face-to-face; it is safer this way. 

"Now, Elaeno, my friend, I have much of a tale to tell you." Salamander proceeded to explain, with much embellishment and many frills, the whole story of how he had met Xander and how their Wyrds had interlocked. He elaborately wove the saga of how Buffy had been ensorcelled and forgotten her love. Finally, by the time he had finished, Salamander was nearly out of breath but grinning from ear to ear with excitement.

Elaeno handed a silver piece mockingly to Sal. "You certainly make one hell of a gerthddyn, Salamander—eh," he added, noticing that 'lost' look in Xander's eyes, "storyteller. At any rate, your story aches my heart, Xander."

"What is it with you people and that phrase?" he cried, raising his hands in defeat.

The elf laughed musically again. "You are from the north, and yet you have no idea of the language or culture there or even the idioms we use. This amazes me."

"Yes, well, I am quite amazing."

No one had anything to say to that. There was a moment of silence before Salamander directed them off of the main square and down onto a quieter alleyway. The three of them huddled close together, an odd assortment, especially with the towering Orystinnian bending down to their eye levels. "Oh, we are not conspicuous or anything," Xander muttered in his familiar sarcasm.

Ignoring the human, Salamander delved right into the problem at hand. "All right, now that I have broken down the problem, how do you think we should tackle this, Elaeno?"

The large man considered for a moment. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip. "It is too bad Nevyn is across the ocean; he would be of great help. Ah, by the hells! Perhaps it is best that we stay off of the etheric for the next several days. In the meantime, it will just have to be good old fashioned investigation." Salamander nodded in agreement while Xander only shrugged. "Oh, and maybe someone should have a conversation with Buffy. Not Xander, so one of us."

"Why not me?" Xander exclaimed in a hurt voice. "She is my girlfriend after all."

"Not at the moment, she is not. She hates your guts." Though hearing those words hurt almost as much as admitting it to himself, Xander relented and handed over the task. "I elect Sal. He is the best with words anyway. Buffy will not be able to resist his charm."

"She had better!" growled Xander, staring down the suddenly flustered barbarian wizard. 

With a nervous chuckle, Salamander accepted the job. Duringthe next few days, the boys would split up and search for clues, anything that would track down the dweomermaster who had done this. That very night Sal was planning on confronting Buffy, praying that she wouldn't remember seeing him with Xander at last evening's fiasco.

As they concluded their plans, the team separated, each heading in an opposite direction as though they had never held the meeting. Xander and Salamander agreed to meet up when the first moon had risen in the sky for their first show. Sal vowed to show him the dweomer ropes if it killed him. Xander walked away, thinking to himself that maybe this was now at the top of his list of stupidest things he'd ever done. When Buffy came back, he knew she'd never let him live this one down.

THE END


End file.
